


Ignite Me

by pterodactylichexameter



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactylichexameter/pseuds/pterodactylichexameter
Summary: Az is gone for the weekend but that doesn't mean Mor can't remind him what he's missing out on. (This is just an excuse to write moriel phone sex ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lauren for betaing and literally just mentioning Mor calling Az to listen to his voice... I have no self control.

Mor wiggles in her seat, glancing down at her phone under the table, Azriel’s name lighting up on the screen.  Amren is saying something blasé about men that Mor has heard a thousand times over and she’s much more preoccupied with Azriel’s distance a few states away on a business meeting with Rhys, than discussing the finer failings of the male gender.

Azriel <3: Is that how tonight is going to go?

He could have snapchatted her back. Could have acknowledged more explicitly what he must have only just opened: a picture, the full ten seconds long, of her getting ready for her night out with their friends. Or at least, a preview. Of the black lace lingerie he was missing out on. She’d paused while getting dressed earlier, applied the deepest red lipstick she owned, and sent the picture, just of her torso, one strap slipping off her shoulder, nipple barely covered, the top of the frame squarely on her parted lips. Just to remind him of what he could be doing.

Mor: That’s up for you to decide ;)

She fidgets and Feyre gives her a raised brow look. _You okay?_

Mor smiles, hopefully reassuringly, nodding, but her foot raps the floor in quick succession and she’s decidedly _not okay_. Her panties are too thin for this tonight, dammit.

Her phone is already open when he immediately responds.

Azriel <3: You’re already wet just thinking about me.

It’s not a question.

Mor shoves herself out of the booth, mumbling something, flushed, about going to the bathroom.

She’s barely left the table before she’s calling him, and he picks up on the second ring. She could do the texting thing another night maybe, but not now. Not when he’s gone and she wants him, _needs_ him back at home to peel her out of her lingerie at the end of the night. Needs him mouthing over her nipple through the sheer lace as he backs her towards the bed. Needs to run her hands through his hair as he palms her other breast, trails down her stomach to push aside the matching lace between her thighs. Her fingers only work so well when she has his to compare to.

“Mor we’re having dinner with the _editor_ ,” he says pointedly, instead of greeting her.

Her breath comes high in her throat when she murmurs his name, pleading.  She _knows_ he excused himself from the table before he even opened her snap.

He must hear when she locks herself in the fancy bathroom stall, leans against the door. It’s a nice enough restaurant that the walls go floor to ceiling, the wooden doors painted a crisp white. “You’re a little needy tonight, aren’t you?” he teases, voice dropping, and she nearly moans outright.

“And?”  They both know how this is going to play out.

“You want me to talk to you, Morrigan?” he murmurs, and even through the phone clutched to her ear, she shudders at the dark velvet of his voice, the way he can have her ready for him just like that.

“Yes, please,” she just whispers breathlessly, hoping no one else is in the room. Not caring if they are.

“You’re wearing that little black set you got for my birthday last year, aren’t you?” How he can be this composed, know exactly what to say, is beyond her.  And if Azriel is anything, he’s proficient. He knows her wardrobe inside and out. She likes surprising him with new things but it’s no secret that he has favorites. And that he likes her in black.

“Yes,” she just replies carefully, breathless.  She can imagine him, all dressed up for his dinner meeting. Pressed white shirt. Thin black tie. Those slacks that sit narrow around his waist, skimming down the muscles of his thighs.

“You know what I’d be doing if I were there,” he says, and they _both_ know. “Keep you waiting all night.  Take you home and undress you. One layer at a time.”

She has to hold back a whimper and he pauses for a moment. “Touch yourself for me, Morrigan.”

He can’t follow through, not through the phone, but she takes it for the order it is. “Where?”

“Your breasts. Unzip your dress and tease your nipples,” his voice hardens and she knows it’s because he’s just as invested in this as she is. That he’s leaning into the wall, phone pressed to his ear, wishing he could be there touching her instead of telling her to.

She fumbles with the zipper at the back, half because she’s doing it one handed, half because she’s moving too fast to comprehend what she’s doing. “Fuck, Mor, I want to be there. You looked so fucking good in that picture.”

She shoves one side of her dress down, cupping her breast, biting back a moan when she runs her thumb over her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.  “I want you here, Az,” she murmurs, desperate. She loves his voice, when they do this, but she’d much rather have him be here, have his own hand taking over, callouses catching over the lace against her skin, have him pushing her strap over her shoulder with his teeth, tongue laving over her nipple before drawing it gently between his teeth.

“Touch your breasts for me, princess.  You know I like to watch you play with yourself.”

It takes physical effort not to moan and give herself away. “I need more.”

She doesn’t have long, needs him to hurry up, needs to finish herself before it looks suspicious how long she’s been gone.

He pauses for a moment, and she knows it’s for her benefit. To make her wait, even just a few moments. “I know you’re already wet, Morrigan, but why don’t you tell me.”

She doesn’t have to waste any time, rucking up her skirt, rubbing herself once, over that black lace, entirely soaked through, before nudging it aside.  She pauses, makes sure no one else is in the room, that she’s entirely alone before she murmurs, “Wet enough for your cock in me, Azriel.”

She can practically hear him swallow. “Is that what you want? My cock?”

She strokes herself again, draws her wetness up to circle her clit.  It’s easy to think of the last time they were together, only two nights ago, where she’d ridden him achingly slowly, chest to chest, moaning into his shoulder.

When she doesn’t respond after a few moments, too worked up with him fully knowing it, he continues. “You don’t get my cock till you’ve had my mouth and fingers, Morrigan, you know that.”

She swallows hard, circling harder, faster, knuckles white where they clutch her phone. “I know but-“

“But?” he urges, and she can feel his precision starting to break, wear down.

“ _Azriel_ ,” she groans out, unable to hide the tension from her voice. “I just want you in me. I _need_ you in me.”

“Are you touching your clit for me, princess?” he just growls, an edge creeping into his tone.

She shudders, rocking against her hand, cool tile pressed against her temple. “Yes.” She swallows. “Are you touching yourself?”

“No,” he grinds out. “I’m waiting till we get back to the hotel. And then I’m going to spend a long… long while thinking of you in that lingerie. The way your breasts look all wrapped up for me. I’m going to think about the way you taste, Morrigan, and the way you moan for me when I’m in you for the first time. I’m going to think about tearing you out of your clothes. Going to get myself off to what you sound like now.”

“Az-“ she cries out, whimpering. “I’m so close, I just need a little more, I-“

“That was fast, what did it? Me talking about how much I want to fuck you?”

She lets out the barest whimper. Because it’s half that. Azriel is rarely unhinged in bed with her. He’ll talk to her on occasion, but usually she’s the one making all the noise. Which is why when he does this… says these things…

She can feel him in the low timbre of his voice, imagine what his lips feel like drifting over her neck, the warm press of his hands at her waist, her hips. Every dark murmur grates against her skin, sends heat between her thighs. Because when they’re together, Azriel prefers to _give_. Everything he tells her, everything he does, all boils down to him wanting to please _her_. It just so happens that pleasing her pleases him as well.

But hearing him tell her that _he_ wants to be there, wants to be in her… She bites back a groan, rubbing faster, precise circles, and imagines him backing her into the cool tile wall. His broad form would shelter hers and he’d swallow her moans, slant his mouth across hers and kiss her while he pushed her dress up to her hips.

When she doesn’t respond at first, he adds, “Fuck, Mor, I want to hear you moan for me. All those sounds you make when I have my mouth on you, tasting you.”

Mor nods, forgets he can’t see her, murmurs a breathless please. In her fantasy, Azriel isn’t gentle with her. He grasps her thighs, hoisting her against the wall, rolls his hips into hers and she can feel how hard he is, how much he wants to be in her. She arches her back and grinds into him, grinds against her own hand.

“Azriel,” she manages to get out breathlessly.

He almost groans. “You’re so close aren’t you, Morrigan?” He practically growls it and she bites her lips to stop from making a noise.

“Mmmh,” she just presses out in acknowledgement.

A pause. “What are you thinking about?”

She clutches her phone. “You here. Pressing me against the wall.”

A muttered curse comes from the other end of the line.

“You being here to feel how wet I am for you.  Not even taking my panties off, just pushing them out of the way so you can be in me.” She lets out a little cry, writhing shamelessly against her hand, body taut. “Fuck, Az, you’d feel so good in me right now.” That ache throbs through her, rests heavy between her thighs, just a little more, _more_.

“Mmmm,” he just murmurs, dark, predatory. “I’m going to tease you till you can’t even moan, Morrigan. Tomorrow. After we’re back.  You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“ _Az_ ,” she cries.

He doesn’t even pause. “You’re going to taste so good, princess, splayed out on my bed for me.  I’m going to fuck you hard enough you scratch my back like last time, hmm? You won’t even be able to moan when you come around my cock.”

The image slams into her, the memory of his weight over her, his hips rocking into hers, breathless at the fill of him inside her, his breath against her neck, the heat of his lips against her skin, and she shatters to it. Throbbing pleasure resounds through her and she doesn’t realize how hard she’s clutching her phone until she realizes she’s trembling.

“Azriel,” she just says, breathless, half in awe, half in gratitude.

Suddenly a muffled voice comes through in the background, Rhys, probably, stumbling across Azriel’s hiding spot.

Az makes an indignant noise. “Tomorrow night, Morrigan,” he just growls, an edge to his voice. “I promise.” And he hangs up, possibly before Rhys can see what he’s doing.

Mor bites back a frustrated groan. It’s going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment :)
> 
> Or come join me in trashcan on [tumblr](http://pterodactylichexameter.tumblr.com)!


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